Tell me, what is right;
When there is nothing left?
When there's no end in sight?
A never-ending night.
But... Left, left, left!
Three lefts will make a right!
Then... Run, run, run.
Into the rising sun.
Feel the fire burn.
The happiness consume.
But if you start to learn,
Back to the darkness turn.
And you'll be... Wrong, wrong, wrong!
Three wrongs don't make a right!
Listen to the throng!
Their self-deluding song:
"We are right, right, right!
You can not contradict us!
And since might, makes, right;
We burn inside the light!
And it burns, burns, burns!
The joy of exaltation!
Never turn, turn, turn!
Just march into the ashes!"
What is it to live,
If marching towards the ashes?
Why is it wrong to fight;
To turn against the light?
So... Left, left... Twice.
I'll just be marching backwards.
So I... Guess... You're... Right...
I'm just a little...
Wrong.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Motorcycles: They Make You Cool.
So, I went shopping today. In the six-mile drive, I spotted at least ten motorcycles... And decided I needed to rant about it. Motorcycles do not automatically make you cool. Your motorcycle's capacity to make loud noises and drive in the wrong line are not directly related to how cool you are. A fake ponytail makes you look like an absolute loser who is desperate for attention.
Now, I generally class motorcycles into two groups: Harleys, and motorcycles that aren't a sign of a midlife crisis. Buying a Harley (Or some cheap mimic) generally comes across as being an attention whore. You've chosen a hyper-masculine vehicle that you are bound to let go to your head. The Asian motorcycles... Not so much. Their designs generally bring to mind fuel-efficiency and/or speed.
The next issue I have with cyclists is that some just can't pull off the look. A neon-yellow T-shirt isn't the look. A bright blue jacket isn't the look. Motorcycles look the best when the wearer is in dark-colored clothing. Why? They just do. Also: Don't have your 250 pound wife on the back of the motorcycle. Just don't. That doesn't make you a "badass biker and his bitch"... It makes you "trailer trash".
Lastly, and this one gets it's own section,never wear a fake ponytail. When you take off that helmet... And your ponytail goes with it... Everyone who saw it just lost all respect for you. You don't need a ponytail to ride a motorcycle. If you've got a fake ponytail on; it just shows that you're extremely desperate and pretending to be someone you're not. If you're that lonely and pathetic, you may as well write a blog.
Now, I generally class motorcycles into two groups: Harleys, and motorcycles that aren't a sign of a midlife crisis. Buying a Harley (Or some cheap mimic) generally comes across as being an attention whore. You've chosen a hyper-masculine vehicle that you are bound to let go to your head. The Asian motorcycles... Not so much. Their designs generally bring to mind fuel-efficiency and/or speed.
The next issue I have with cyclists is that some just can't pull off the look. A neon-yellow T-shirt isn't the look. A bright blue jacket isn't the look. Motorcycles look the best when the wearer is in dark-colored clothing. Why? They just do. Also: Don't have your 250 pound wife on the back of the motorcycle. Just don't. That doesn't make you a "badass biker and his bitch"... It makes you "trailer trash".
Lastly, and this one gets it's own section,never wear a fake ponytail. When you take off that helmet... And your ponytail goes with it... Everyone who saw it just lost all respect for you. You don't need a ponytail to ride a motorcycle. If you've got a fake ponytail on; it just shows that you're extremely desperate and pretending to be someone you're not. If you're that lonely and pathetic, you may as well write a blog.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
The White Picket Fence.
So, I have a second post for you tonight... And possibly one more before I go to bed. This is concerning the fatal line between my parents and I. In their own stereotypical-but-broken way, my parents want me to be happy. This otherwise-honorable goal is ruined by one thing... Their definition of happy and my definition of happy are radically different.
They picture the "American Dream". They want to see me with a pretty white house with a red door and a white picket fence. In their vision, I live happily with my wife (Brown-haired, not blonde. I swear I could write a brilliant book using only my dad's dating advice), my two-point-five children and the family dog. Each morning, I'd come downstairs in my suit and tie to be greeted by a warm breakfast. I'd head to the office in my Lexus, and spend the day working an participating in the a's-seen-on-TV office antics. I'd return home, my wife returning at the same time from fetching the kids from school. We'd carry in the groceries, and the wife would get to work on dinner. We'd eat a's a family, then enjoy a movie together before heading to bed...
My scenario isn't particularly similar... And, while still romanticized is a tad more realistic. Or so I think.
Firstly, the house... It isn't a house. It's a small "apartment" on the upper level of a main-street-style coffee shop and bakery. I'd live there with my husband. We'd run the shop together, serving the handful of regulars who stopped by each day. In the late afternoon, we'd close; then spend the rest of the day doing whatever we wanted; watching movies, gaming, going to shows, etc. We would come home and I'd cook us a nice dinner. After that, it'd be time for a night of alcohol and sex.
Their vision for me is what I'd refer to as the "Happy Life" plan, while I consider mine to be a "Have Fun, Die Young" plan. Plus, there's the issue of the domestic roles... Sorry, I don't want a wife; I'd choose the kitchen-and-skirt any day. I don't think my parents are open-minded enough to process that "Always hanging out with all the girls" doesn't always mean "Wants to date the girls"... Actually, in my case, it's "Shares the same interests as most of the girls".
They picture the "American Dream". They want to see me with a pretty white house with a red door and a white picket fence. In their vision, I live happily with my wife (Brown-haired, not blonde. I swear I could write a brilliant book using only my dad's dating advice), my two-point-five children and the family dog. Each morning, I'd come downstairs in my suit and tie to be greeted by a warm breakfast. I'd head to the office in my Lexus, and spend the day working an participating in the a's-seen-on-TV office antics. I'd return home, my wife returning at the same time from fetching the kids from school. We'd carry in the groceries, and the wife would get to work on dinner. We'd eat a's a family, then enjoy a movie together before heading to bed...
My scenario isn't particularly similar... And, while still romanticized is a tad more realistic. Or so I think.
Firstly, the house... It isn't a house. It's a small "apartment" on the upper level of a main-street-style coffee shop and bakery. I'd live there with my husband. We'd run the shop together, serving the handful of regulars who stopped by each day. In the late afternoon, we'd close; then spend the rest of the day doing whatever we wanted; watching movies, gaming, going to shows, etc. We would come home and I'd cook us a nice dinner. After that, it'd be time for a night of alcohol and sex.
Their vision for me is what I'd refer to as the "Happy Life" plan, while I consider mine to be a "Have Fun, Die Young" plan. Plus, there's the issue of the domestic roles... Sorry, I don't want a wife; I'd choose the kitchen-and-skirt any day. I don't think my parents are open-minded enough to process that "Always hanging out with all the girls" doesn't always mean "Wants to date the girls"... Actually, in my case, it's "Shares the same interests as most of the girls".
Go to Bed.
Every night. The same yelling match comes between ten and twelve: Go to bed. I don't want to. I'm not tired. I prefer the night anyways. When I was younger, I wouldn't lead to a screaming match. It's be a far more civil response: "Why should I?". This was met with various answers, none of which I believe to be valid.
The first of these answers is the classic parent answer: "Because I said so.". An argument ground in the outdated belief that a parent is always correct, and that children are intended to obey without question. Of course, I don't blindly accept that social rule... After all, who am I to take orders from someone who tries to place phonecalls on the TV remote.
The second answer, which didn't make an appearance until I was in high school is that "Staying up at night is bad for you.". Now, this is one I find to be blatantly false. While I'm not a doctor, a fair bit of google and wikipedia has lead ms to the conclusion that it is unhealthy to fight one's natural sleep cycle. Most people naturally get tired in the evening, and wake in the morning. However, for some people, this cycle is delayed a few hours or even reversed. There is also a sub-class of sleep disorders called "Non-24"; with which I have self-diagnosed myself. A sleep schedule running on a 26 hour clock describes my sleep habits almost perfectly.
The last answer is: "Because it's part of being a responsible adult.". Well, fuck that. I'm not a responsible adult. I'm 18, and I hate the concept of responsibility. To be responsible means to throw aside all self-expression and to give in fully to the cookie-cutter that society wants you to fit into. I'm not going to do that. I don't care "how much I'm hurting myself" or "how I'll never accomplish anything". To me, that life is far worse than death.
So, when they tell me to go to bed; it turns into a screaming match. Every night, we go through the same routine; and we scream and curse like it will solve things. All hopes for a civil solution are dashed, because I won't accept what they consider to be fundamental truths of reality. But, we're all far too stubborn to accept that we perceive things differently. We all believe that we are right and everyone else is wrong. And that is why humans are a self-destructive species.
The first of these answers is the classic parent answer: "Because I said so.". An argument ground in the outdated belief that a parent is always correct, and that children are intended to obey without question. Of course, I don't blindly accept that social rule... After all, who am I to take orders from someone who tries to place phonecalls on the TV remote.
The second answer, which didn't make an appearance until I was in high school is that "Staying up at night is bad for you.". Now, this is one I find to be blatantly false. While I'm not a doctor, a fair bit of google and wikipedia has lead ms to the conclusion that it is unhealthy to fight one's natural sleep cycle. Most people naturally get tired in the evening, and wake in the morning. However, for some people, this cycle is delayed a few hours or even reversed. There is also a sub-class of sleep disorders called "Non-24"; with which I have self-diagnosed myself. A sleep schedule running on a 26 hour clock describes my sleep habits almost perfectly.
The last answer is: "Because it's part of being a responsible adult.". Well, fuck that. I'm not a responsible adult. I'm 18, and I hate the concept of responsibility. To be responsible means to throw aside all self-expression and to give in fully to the cookie-cutter that society wants you to fit into. I'm not going to do that. I don't care "how much I'm hurting myself" or "how I'll never accomplish anything". To me, that life is far worse than death.
So, when they tell me to go to bed; it turns into a screaming match. Every night, we go through the same routine; and we scream and curse like it will solve things. All hopes for a civil solution are dashed, because I won't accept what they consider to be fundamental truths of reality. But, we're all far too stubborn to accept that we perceive things differently. We all believe that we are right and everyone else is wrong. And that is why humans are a self-destructive species.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Boop.
I could really explain this a bit better... But, I think I've stumbled upon one of the core truths. I'm posting it now, for the sake of publishing... I'll explain it later, or leave my imaginary fanbase to decipher for themselves.
Anyways, here it is... My text from a brief moment of insanity.
Anyways, here it is... My text from a brief moment of insanity.
Not entirely sure what I'm going to do. I've been flipping back and forth in my mind all night. Just drove off down the middle-of-nowhere roads up by Fort Branch. Really wanted to just keep going for the hell of it. Figured my parents would freak out though, since I didn't have my phone. I'm in one of those 'I want to write on the walls' moods right now. (Have you ever wondered why that's such a strange thing? They're very close to paper, and mostly white, after all. But it's always seen a's something really bad; like only the most evil or insane people would write in the walls. I think it's seen a's a sort of core defiance; since it's one of the first rules we learn. That we can't customize our cage.)
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Xill's Blog 3; Part 2.
Well. Here we are again...
It's always such a pleasure...
There are two things that always happen when I start a blog... First: I gather a small following of friends, a resident troll, and at least one minor stalker. I'd like to go ahead and start with housekeeping. Friends: Don't trust me with anything important; one moodswing and that could be the end of things. Troll: Yeah. I'll put up with your shit. After all, sarcastic and negative attention is still attention. Stalker: Stop being a creep. Sure, I'll sleep with you. But I at least want an expensive dinner first. I draw the line at when you call me on the phone... Don't bloody do it.
Next, I suppose I'll give a little overview of the topics I tend to cover. Angry Ranting: This is probably the biggest one. You could find me ranting about politics, religion, butterflies, or shoehorns... The only consistency is that I'll probably be pissed off. Life Updates: I'm an attention whore. Really. I generally post about completely random shit that happens. Or even nothing. Gaming and Movies: I hate almost all video games. You get to hear why. Whether it's a rant about a specific game, developer, or the playerbase in general. I also hate movies. Philosophy: A glorified term for the combination of coffee, mental instability, and teenage angst.
A few more things to cover. Comments: Leave them. :3 As I said, I'm an attention whore. But try to keep them on-topic and in English. HTML: Fuck. It. I love textile. My -, _, *, and + are the only text effects I like. HTML is a waste of time and memory, and I generally avoid using it. Autocorrect: When I type from my iPod... Yes. It tends to derp up; and I tend not to notice. The worst example is probably from SL; where I wrote multiple pages on why "We Yeary An An Hoose".
That's all for now.
It's always such a pleasure...
There are two things that always happen when I start a blog... First: I gather a small following of friends, a resident troll, and at least one minor stalker. I'd like to go ahead and start with housekeeping. Friends: Don't trust me with anything important; one moodswing and that could be the end of things. Troll: Yeah. I'll put up with your shit. After all, sarcastic and negative attention is still attention. Stalker: Stop being a creep. Sure, I'll sleep with you. But I at least want an expensive dinner first. I draw the line at when you call me on the phone... Don't bloody do it.
Next, I suppose I'll give a little overview of the topics I tend to cover. Angry Ranting: This is probably the biggest one. You could find me ranting about politics, religion, butterflies, or shoehorns... The only consistency is that I'll probably be pissed off. Life Updates: I'm an attention whore. Really. I generally post about completely random shit that happens. Or even nothing. Gaming and Movies: I hate almost all video games. You get to hear why. Whether it's a rant about a specific game, developer, or the playerbase in general. I also hate movies. Philosophy: A glorified term for the combination of coffee, mental instability, and teenage angst.
A few more things to cover. Comments: Leave them. :3 As I said, I'm an attention whore. But try to keep them on-topic and in English. HTML: Fuck. It. I love textile. My -, _, *, and + are the only text effects I like. HTML is a waste of time and memory, and I generally avoid using it. Autocorrect: When I type from my iPod... Yes. It tends to derp up; and I tend not to notice. The worst example is probably from SL; where I wrote multiple pages on why "We Yeary An An Hoose".
That's all for now.
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